If by Rudyard Kipling

When I first came out to Los Angeles, I worked on a production with an older cast. Some of the men considered me like a son. They would feed me life’s wisdom before the shows. One man in particular didn’t have a bond a with his son, he had a lot of judgments for his decisions and couldn’t get past his own judgements of himself. So one day, he met his son for lunch. He had trouble expressing his love to him with their past history, so he said he pulled this poem called “IF” from his pocket and read this a loud to his son. As he read it to his son, he began to cry, and then when he was done, they began to talk about life and themselves. He said that was the most transforming experience of his life between him and his son. It is never to late to find peace and make peace. God bless you all. He gave this poem to me, which I hung on my wall and used as my prayer.

IF

By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master; If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat these two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!